and made her eyes a shade lighter

Broken Heart

Originally posted by jeffatkinsimagines

The music was blaring loudly from the large speakers in the gym, lights flickering back and forth between different colors of the spectrum, the smell of punch lingered in the air mixed with alcohol that some students had managed to sneak in.

(Y/N) sat on the bleachers with her head down, looking at her short and shiny black heels that were beginning to make her feet ache. Reaching down, she took them off and wiggled her toes for a moment before sighed and leaning back against the bleacher behind her.

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We’ll dance on top of cars

Now, as he stays there on the edge of her bed, her back pressed slightly against his chest and sitting between his parted legs, Stiles starts slowly combing her curls making them wavy as he knows she loves them and thinks that all he ever wanted in his life after all, is being able to see them getting silver by his side.

“Mm, you’re good at this.” Lydia’s moan brings him back to her.

“Among many other things.”

or the smutty pre-prom drabble no one has hopefully written yet

romance, smut - 2.7k words - Explicit   [AO3]

A/N: Special thanks to Susana ( @you-make-me-wander ) for her amazing beta work, you know you can always count on me babe <3

and thank you Sanya ( @killianjonec ) for reading this for first and always supporting me with my writing, i love you sis

Title is from “Wings” by Birdy

part 3 of the Bedzone series 

HAPPY VALENTINE’S DAY @riverdalecorefour! I really hope you’ll like this

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And Just Like That... Everything Changed Part 2

So this turned out way way longer than i intended but I just couldn’t stop! I hope you guys like it and it doesn’t drag on too much… This is 100% turning into a big multi chapter now! My inspo is peaking! 

Thanks to everyone who has been reading and liking and commenting you guys are beautiful and your responses always put a smile on my face xxx

Note: find Part 1 here-

Blaring alarms rang in her ears, the sound obnoxious and hopeful all at once. Betty felt like she was under water, every sound muffled, every movement sluggish. Time seemed to pass impossibly slow-a stark contrast to the speed in which the bullet had hit him. His breathing was becoming more shallow and ragged by the second, his skin almost translucent. It felt cold under her hand which rested on his face [the other still pressing down on the wound].

His eyes kept threatening to flutter closed and each time she’d urge them open, keeping his gaze and making out the far off look in them behind the watery sheen in her own. Her mouth felt like a dessert but she kept whispering “please” and “stay with me” or “I love you” into the suffocating air between them.

Red and Blue lights illuminated the diner, the paramedics bursting through the door mere moments later. The chime of the bell was lost in their haste.

“Just hang on Jug,” she breathed, a slither of relief sliding into her heart.

“It doesn’t hurt anymore,” Jughead wheezed; quiet, broken and wretched.  It made her want to throw up but steeling her strength Betty merely stroked his hair away from his chilled, damp forehead.

“Shh,” she whispered gently, trying to keep the panic and despair out of her tone.

And then she blinked and the paramedics were there shoving her aside and taking ownership of her boyfriend’s body and more so, his life. She couldn’t register what was happening, rather she could only think about how much colder her hand found now that is was bereft of his even with his skin so icy. How empty and lost and useless she felt as pain erupted in her chest all over again and spread outward.

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TLH snippet — the Beautiful Cordelia

Snippet from TLH 1:

Cordelia glanced over her shoulder. “Is it — I mean, I wish to chat alone with you, too, but are we being dreadfully rude asking your brother to walk behind us?”

“Not a bit,” Lucie assured her. “Look at him. He’s quite distracted, reading.”

And he was. James had a book out and was calmly reading while he walked. Though he seemed entirely caught up in whatever he was perusing, he nevertheless skirted oncoming passers-by, the occasional rock or fallen branch, and once even a small boy holding a hoop, with admirable grace. Cordelia suspected that if she had tried such a stunt, she would have crashed into a tree.

“You’re so lucky,” Cordelia said, wistfully, still looking over her shoulder at James.

“Goodness me, why?” Lucie looked at her with wide eyes. Where James’ eyes were amber, Lucie’s were a pretty pale blue, a shade lighter than her father’s. The famous dark blue Herondale eyes had gone to Will’s sister’s children.

Cordelia’s head snapped back around. “Oh, because —“ Because you get to spend time with James every day? She doubted Lucie thought that was any special gift; one didn’t, when it was one’s family. “He’s such a good older brother. If I’d asked Alastair to walk ten paces behind me in a park he would have made sure to stick by my side the entire time just to be annoying.”

“Pfft!” Lucie exhaled. “Of course I adore Jamie but he’s been dreadful lately, ever since he fell in love.”

She might as well have dropped an incendiary device on Cordelia’s head. Everything seemed to fly apart around her. “He’s what?”

“Fallen in love,” Lucie repeated, with the look of someone enjoying imparting a bit of gossip. “Oh, he won’t say with who, of course, because it’s Jamie and he never tells us anything. But Father’s diagnosed him and he says it’s definitely love.”

“You make it sound like consumption.” Cordelia’s head was whirling with dismay. James in love? With who? The look he had given her when she stepped down from the carriage, perhaps she had imagined that?

“Well, it is a bit, isn’t it? He gets all pale and moody and stares off out of windows like Keats.”

“Did Keats stare out of windows? I don’t recall hearing that.”

Lucie plowed on, undeterred by the question of whether England’s foremost romantic poet did or did not stare out of windows. “He won’t say anything to anyone but Matthew, and Matthew is a tomb where James is concerned. I heard a bit of their conversation once by accident, though —“

“Accident?” Cordelia raised an eyebrow.

“I may have been hiding beneath a table,” said Lucie, with dignity. “But it was only because I had lost an earring and was looking for it.”

Cordelia suppressed a smile. “Go on.”

“He is definitely in love, and Matthew definitely thinks he is being foolish. He does not like her.“

GMS Fanfiction - James/MC - Protection

As an apology for the wait on the first prompt, and because I wanted to say thank you again for the Jack/MC picture, I wrote another idea that @jane-runs-fast gave me. This prompt was for a jealous James, though I deviated a little from the original idea. I hope that doesn’t bother you!

Guinevere felt as if she was walking on air.

The night was going well; better than she had expected, actually. Not only had she been asked to a party being hosted by a rather famous director, but said director had seemingly taken a shine to her, spending the past thirty minutes or so in a pleasant conversation about previous roles and things that she hoped to achieve in the future.

She was enjoying it greatly. Until his sons decided to shadow her, that is.

Even this might not have dampened her spirits on a normal afternoon. Unfortunately, both men were obviously very used to getting what they wanted, and it would take more than casual deflection and pointed avoidance to be rid of their attentions.

“Come on,” said one of them, flashing her a winning smile. “Just one dance?”

“We’re not bad guys,” added the other coaxingly. “What are you afraid of?”

“Nothing,” replied Guinevere. She gave nothing more than a polite smile. “I’m simply tired.”

“You can relax with us,” offered the first. “The wine at the bar here is fantastic.”

“I don’t drink,” Guinevere said, turning him down. “Low tolerance. You understand, right?”

From across the room, she spied Sebastian lingering behind the crowds, watching her silently. She was tempted to signal him over, but quickly thought better of it. He had gotten overzealous about protecting her before. The director’s sons probably meant well, all things considered. She didn’t want to get anyone hurt.

Just as she thought this, Sebastian disappeared through a door, expression unchanging.

“I think I’m going to go home, actually,” she said, eyes returning to them. “It’s been a long day. I’m going to turn in early tonight.”

“So soon?” One of them frowned at her. “Stay a while longer. It’s still early.”

“I’m sorry. I really have to go.”

She made to step past them, ready to rid herself of her heels and shower away the day.

Her wrist was grabbed. Not hard, but firmer than she would have liked.

“Come on,” the man who held her insisted. “Don’t be a stick in the mud.”

“Let go of me,” Guinevere said, her voice growing colder.

He did so, staring with widening eyes. He took a step back. Had he turned a shade or two lighter?

Arms slipped around Guinevere from behind, drawing her into a broad male chest. The scent of chypre engulfed her, warm and welcome. Immediately she relaxed.

“I believe we all heard the lady say no. Didn’t we, boys?” Though James’ hold on her was nothing but gentle, his tone was so frosty even Guinevere had to swallow.

“Hey man,” said the less fearful of the pair, holding up his hands warily. “We were just trying to get her to lighten up. No hard feelings.”

“No?” She could hear the smile in his voice. “I would keep that in mind before you get yourselves into trouble.”

“Are you threatening us?” asked one of them, narrowing his eyes.

“Of course not,” said James amusedly. “I’m merely stating a fact.”

With that, Guinevere was led away and into a car, where they began to drive through the light drizzle of rain that had begun to fall.

“Does your wrist hurt?” asked James softly, as he touched his fingertips to the place where she’d been grasped.

“No. He didn’t grab me that hard.”

James sighed, tugging her to him by that same hand. “My cute little robin has a knack for getting herself into dangerous situations.”

Guinevere frowned at him. “It’s not as if I purposely drew their attention.”

He smirked. “Maybe not. But I can’t ever seem to take my eyes off of you, can I?”

She wasn’t given the chance to reply before he was kissing her, a tender hand resting at her jaw.

“James,” she murmured against his lips, cheeks flushing. “At least wait until we get home.”

Smoky topaz eyes regarded her ferally. His smile had faded. “Another man put his hands on you. I need to erase that.”

“James,” she chastised, still frowning. “We’re in the car.”


“So, we’re not doing this here.” She pulled away from him, a raised brow daring him to defy her.

James leaned back slowly, smiling again. His burning gaze pierced her.

Guinevere couldn’t shake the suspicion that she was going to be in for a long night once he had her alone.


Ignoti Nulla Cupido (10/).

Prompt: Nat came to you in order to keep her and Tony’s promise to keep you safe, but how would they react when they’ll learn about the secret you’ve been keeping since you left Bucky’s side?

Word Count: 703.

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x Reader.

Warnings: Sligh angst, just to keep on with the tradition.

A/N: Filler chapter guys, but I needed to write this so you would be able to get a glimpse at who Chace is.

Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3 | Part 4 | Part 5 | Part 6 | Part 7 | Part 8 | Part 9 | Part 10 | Part 11 | Part 12 | Part 13 | Part 14 | Part 15 |

Originally posted by lovetheworldlife

(Y/N) kept staring through the window, Chace driving next to her not speaking. It was comforting, Chace always knew when to talk to her or just when to hold her if she needed to. But this time it was different, they were no longer two kids that were trained together for several years due to their abilities.

Now they were both adults, one of them in need for the other. And Chace was never one to back off of her, he would always be there if she called or texted.

So when he got her text about her and James leaving the town they were living because the infamous Natasha Romanoff came searching for her claiming to be a real danger and that she needed to get back with her former team, he dropped off everything and came to the States.

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Angels and Demons (Cas x Reader)

Character: Castiel x Reader (Female)

Word Count: 4,644 (Sorry)

Warnings: Torture. Blood. Swearing.

Request: can you do a soulaate cas oneshot? like the reader and cas don’t know each other, but they meet and the reader can see his wings?

AN: What’s up, guys? I’m super excited to be writing for Cas :) …and I'm also excited to tell y'all that I am going to officially become an aunt today or early tomorrow! (I’m sitting in the hospital with my sister, as I write this) Anyways, I hope that everyone enjoys! Feel free to tell me what you think, leave a request, or just stop by to say hello! :)

-Megan :)



The sound of your bare feet smacking against the slimy concrete, echoed off of the surrounding brick walls as you sprinted around a corner and into an empty alleyway. 

“Do you really believe that you could ever escape me, [Y/N]?” a man laughed sadistically from behind you; the same man whom had broken into your apartment, mere moments before. “I know that Castiel has taught you otherwise." 

Ducking into a nearby doorway, you pressed into the shadows and squeezed your eyes shut, hopelessly trying to answer the questions that swirled recklessly through your mind. 

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Not All Superheroes Wear Capes

Originally posted by sati-lotus

Pairing: CrowleyxReader
Word Count: 1,508
Warnings: Implied smut, gore
Author: Brittiny
Request: @sammiefy Can I get a fluffy CrowleyxReader where the reader is has short hair and a marvel addiction?
A/N: I’m not even sure if Crowley can do what I wrote towards the end (spoilers!), but hey, it’s my fic :p

You ran your hand through your short, currently spiked, hair. As you stood in the bathroom, you were making faces in the mirror. The door was open, as you didn’t care if people happened to see you in various stages of undress. In your mind, it didn’t matter. Bikinis were more revealing than your underwear, after all.

“Finally stooped so low that your inner five year old has decided to tease you?” Crowley walked up behind you, wrapping his arms around your waist. You knew he was just teasing you. When you’d met, you had longer hair. After your best friend was diagnosed with cancer, you shaved your head with her. Once it grew in a bit, you decided you really loved having short hair. It made you feel sexy, and powerful. Just like a superhero.

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El Clasico (II) - Cristiano Ronaldo


But if you loved me, why’d you leave me?

There was something about Camp Nou that had always made her emotional. She’d been a child when she’d first walked into the vast stadium with Leo and immediately upon laying eyes on it; something had tugged at her heart. Camp Nou had been home for her, taking up a special place in her heart.

Yet now as she looked around the vast arena, ‘Mes que un club’ spelt out in front of her, the heavy weight inside of her chest only deepened. She had thought she would feel some sort of relief being here, that perhaps if she saw him here, it would be much easier for her.

But her old home only reminded her of the home she had left behind in Madrid. The home she’d walked out on without any explanation. The love she’d left sleeping before he’d woken to stop her with a curt letter consisting of two sentences. The love whose arms she would still search for in the middle of the night only to be met with cold and empty sheets. The love she would have to face after 2 months of ignored calls and messages.

“You okay?” Leo’s voice pulled her out of her thoughts, turning to her brother as she noticed the players starting to lineup at the end of the tunnel. Ready for another round of El Clasico.

She nodded, forcing her lips into a smile, but he wasn’t fooled.

“I don’t understand why you can’t just talk to him-” he began his argument for the umpteenth time, only to be cut off by her - as usual.

“No. I can’t even look at him Leo. He deserves so much better,” she sighed.

“You’re right. He deserves to know the truth and not be kept in the dark, Y/N. If you keep avoiding him like this, he’ll resent you forever,” Leo tried to talk some sense into his little sister.

You’d think it was a bit crazy - he was trying to amend things between her and a man perceived to be his rival in the football world. A relationship that had been like a slap in the face when he’d walked in on the two of them together, shocking him. But he’d seen the love she’d held for the man and he had wanted nothing more than for her to be happy. Yet here she was, making herself miserable without him.

“Good. It’ll be easier if she hates me.” She replied, turning away from her brother.

“Y/N! Y/N!” the child’s voice shouting her name made her heart stop, seeing Cristianinho running towards her with a huge grin on his face.

She let out a laugh, dropping to her knees and catching the boy in her arms as he threw himself into her, holding him against her chest. Squeezing her eyes shut to stop the hurdle of emotions she was hit with, her heart melting with her love for him.

“Ninho, mi amor,” she cooed, as he pulled back, a wide grin on his face.

“I miss you so much, Y/N,” he said, dramatically sighing.

“I miss you too, Ninho. But look at you! You look so handsome!” she replied, willing her voice not to break. Trying to keep her composure in front of him.

“Look at my new sneakers! Mamai bought them for me,” he showed off, stomping his foot for effect.

“They’re amazing,” she replied with a laugh, pressing a kiss to his forehead just as the little boy’s eyes widened upon seeing Leo behind her.

She stood up, about to turn to Leo when she felt him.

His presence before he even appeared, her senses tingling and her body becoming aware. Her eyes met his of their own accord and she felt the wind knocked out of her.

Just like he did. The intensity of her brown eyes made him freeze in his tracks. Her cheeks flushed, dressed in a hoodie that was way too big for her small frame. But there was something missing. The spark in her eyes that had him succumbing to her was missing, yet he still wanted nothing more than to pull her into his arms, hold her tight so that she could never leave him again like she had.

She turned away from him, and rushed off, outside the tunnel. Leaving him hanging once again.


To say the game was an intense one would be an understatement. It wasn’t even half-time and 12 out of the 22 players on the pitch had already been handed yellow cards, along with a red card flashed in both Sergio and Xavi’s faces. Yet the man whom her eyes had been unable to leave was out of it. He was wound up - frustration pent up inside of him and she knew that he was moments away from unraveling.

That moment came too soon - Gerard collided with him sending him tumbling to the ground. Within seconds Cristiano was back on his feet, angrily jabbing away in Spanish to him just as the other boys began running towards their respected teammate, trying to avoid a fight that they didn’t realize had already started.

The moment she saw Cris take a threatening step towards Gerard, she was on her feet. His eyes were cold and his jaw was clenched, and Y/N knew exactly what Cris was about to do.

“Cris- Don’t!” she screamed, making his hand pause in mid-air, as he was about to raise it.

His head turned towards her and their eyes met, hers silently begging him not to create a scene. He took a sharp breath, looking away from her and turning from Gerard, walking off.

Unable to watch any longer, Y/N excused herself from beside Antonella and found herself making her way inside towards the holding rooms. Seeing him was so much more difficult than she could’ve imagined. She could almost feel the betrayal inside of him every time his eyes would wander towards her and quickly look away. She hated herself, but she knew she couldn’t give into her emotions. It was better for him this way.

She heard footsteps approaching and turned her heard to see who it was - only to see him round the corner. A towel hanging around his neck, his face held a scowl that disappeared the moment he lifted his head and saw her standing there.


It felt like a bullet in the chest when he said her name like that. His voice was a caress, the tone wrapping itself around her mirroring the times his arms had wrapped around her and made her feel safe and wanted.

“Cris…” she managed to reply.

His hands fisted either side of him, his posture defensive.

“How’ve you been?” he asked her.

She arched a brow.

“We’re gonna make small talk?” she let out, holding herself back from scoffing.

“Well, considering you walked out on me without so much as a proper sentence to explain why, I don’t see what else there is to do,” he snapped at her, harsher than he’d intended his words to be. Immediately feeling guilty once he saw that the words seemed to slap her in the face.

He didn’t have the heart to call after her when she turned away without a word and left - again.


“Papai- it’s Messi!” he heard his son whisper in awe, looking up to see the Argentinian walking towards the two of them. Offering a grin to Ninho, he ruffled his hair before turning to Cristiano.

“It was a good game,” Leo said, holding out his hand for Cris to shake.

“That was a pretty good nutmeg back there,” Cris replied, chuckling.

“Yeah…listen. I’m saying this because I know she won’t,” Leo began, making Cristiano’s stomach churn. Despite the fact that Lionel had been fine with his relationship with Y/N, the last thing he expected was for this to be a topic of one of their conversations.

Leo sighed, pressing his lips together. Making Cris realise that Y/N had the same dimples in her cheeks as her brother. Their eyes were similar too - only hers were a lighter, deeper shade of brown that sometimes made him feel like he was drowning.

“She needs you, but she doesn’t realize it. She’s too set on trying to keep you at a distance to see what it’s going to do - well - what it’s doing to her. Just…just talk to her.” Leo finished with running a hand through his hair in frustration.

Cris nodded, determination settling in. He deserved an explanation from her. He’d woken up to an empty bed with a note saying, “Don’t come for me. I’m sorry,” and it had driven him insane trying to figure out what the hell he’d done wrong. This was his opportunity and he was going to seize it.


He stood in the doorway of her old apartment, his dominating presence looking so out of place amongst the mundane pieces of furniture that were placed inside. Her hands shook looking at him, because he had that look inside his eyes, that look that let everyone know he was a conqueror who got whatever he wanted. It frightened the hell out of her, because she knew he had come for her. She knew he would find a way to make her succumb to him, that she had to stand her ground no matter what.

“Where’s Ninho?” she asked, trying not to let the topic of conversation head towards what they both knew what he was really there for.

“He’s back at my hotel with my mother.” Cris replied. “Why did you leave?”

“I-I wasn’t feeling too well so I just-” she began, only to be cut off by him.

“Enough - you know it’s not the match I’m talking about,” he spoke, narrowing his eyes at her.

She took a deep breath, turning away from him.

“You should go, Cris.”

“No. I’m not leaving here without you,” Cristiano replied, his voice laced with determination.

“I’m not coming with you, Cris. It’s over.” She said, hating the way her voice trembled. Her chest felt heavy and her stomach was in knots. She couldn’t do this - it was too much doing this face to face with him.

He took hold of her shoulders, spinning her around to face him. Her eyes closed of their own accord when his hand cupped her face, hating the way her body fell weak at his touch.

“It’s never over between us, angel. I tried to give you your space but enough is enough. It’s time for you to come back home,” he said, stroking her cheek and lowering his forehead to hers.

She felt a tug of longing in her heart at his words, threatening to make her tears spill over.

“I can’t, Cris. I can’t be with you-” she whispered, shaking her head and pushing his hands off her, taking a step back from him. Tears swimming in her eyes, making something inside of him break at the sight.

“Just- tell me what I did wrong, angel. We’ll work on it together; we’ll fix it-” he began, falling down to the point where he was almost ready to beg for her.

She shook her head, letting a sob finally escape.

“I have cancer, Cristiano. They’re taking out my ovaries next week…”

He felt the wind knocked out of him, taking in a deep breath through his nose. She couldn’t be…

“But- you’re going into surgery…you’re going to be fine, angel,” he muttered, more so to himself than to her. Taking a step towards her when she shook her head.

“Cris- don’t you get it? I can’t be with you. I can’t start a family with you and Ninho because I won’t be capable of doing the one thing that a woman is supposed-” she sobbed, but he didn’t let her finish. He grabbed her face, pulling it to his.

“Listen to me. I am in love with you, Y/N. Ninho loves you. You love me. I don’t care if we can’t have kids - because there’s nothing worse than not having you. Don’t you understand? You’re what drives me. You’re everything to me and I’m not willing to have a life without you in it. You’re going to get through this, angel. We’re going to get through this the way we’re supposed to - together.”

Their kiss was salty with the tears that were still flowing from her eyes, yet he felt like a huge weight had been lifted off his shoulders as he held her to him. Held her so tightly as if she could mesh into him and become a physical part of him. She was his home, his soulmate, his everything. His angel.

Newborn Princess CHAPTER 3

Summary: As Happy comes back from a late run he hears crying and finds a baby in a basket on his doorstep, with a letter saying that it was his. Will he raise the child or give it up. 

Chapter 1

Chapter 2

I’m super glad that you all like this story so much don’t worry this isn’t the last part there is soooo much more to come!!! <3

WARNINGS: Language


“You sure do look cute.” Happy said then grabbed his phone dialing his moms number, “Why look who decided to call?” He heard his mother cheer. “I’m on my way I should be there in an hour.” He answered simply and smirked when he heard his daughter’s loud cry.

“Happy? What’s that in the background…it sounds like a baby?” His mother said, “We’ll see you in an hour ma.”

“We? Happy who’s we…” Happy hung up his phone and tossed it in the seat next to him with a laugh, “Yeah ma’s gonna have a damn heart attack.

He was only a few minutes away but decided to pull into a gas station, “Let’s fill up this car, huh baby.” He said pulling up to a pump and shutting off the truck. Putting his burner in his pocket he walked out and went to the side were his daughter was opening the door to hear her loud squeal. “I hear you girl I ain’t leavin’ you in this hot ass car.” Happy told her as he lifted her up taking her into his arm then grabbing the diaper bag with the other.

Happy walked into the gas station which seemed to be littered with teenagers making him grunt  as he went into the bathroom, “Shit.” Happy growled as he walked into the men’s then back out when he didn’t see a changing table. “Fuck it.” He said then went into the women’s bathroom locking the door behind himself. “What am I going to name my girl?” He whispered as he began to change her diaper then put a a pacifier with the Anarchy A on it. He buckled her in with the straps on the changing table then did his business when he was done with her.

“Oh my god that is the woman’s bathroom!” A woman gasped when he walked out with his daughter. “I had to change my damn kid.” He growled, “You should’ve let her mother do it.”

Little Lowman let out a loud scream and Happy rocked her slightly, “Her mom didn’t want her.” He growled back and the woman backed away at the venomous sound of his voice, “I gotcha girl. Relax.” Happy whispered as he held her against his chest her headband covered head against his neck.

Happy walked around the aisles glaring at any of the kids that looked his way, “Sucks that you’re to young for juice.” He told his girl then walked to the counter waiting in line.

“50 on 10.” Happy said then pulling out fifty dollars from his wallet which was difficult, “First time dad?” The cashier asked in a soft voice, she was a woman about early twenties maybe, short dark brown hair, glasses with brown eyes, the sun making them look slightly orange. “Yeah.” She nodded her head, “Yeah my brother and his girlfriend just had their first kids…set of twins.” She laughed and Happy smirked, “Damn.

“She’s beautiful how old is she.” The woman smiled and gave a little wave making his daughter coo and squirm in his arms, “Hi.” She laughed, “She was two weeks premature but she’s a month old now.” Happy said poking his girl’s cheek. “I was two months premie.” She scrunched up her face, “But she’s a beauty.” She smiled, then gasped, “Oh I’m sorry, uh you said 50 on 10 right. Sorry bout that.”

Happy smirked when she took the money, “No problem baby.” He winked before he turned to walk out the door then to his truck were he put his daughter in her car seat. Happy filled up the truck quickly then drove to his mother’s house chuckling when he noticed his mom sitting on her porch. “Okay baby girl, let’s go see abuelita.” He said as he parked.

Happy stepped out of the truck then went to the other door, noticing that his ma kept trying to see what he was doing. “She’s probably going to be pissed for a bit but don’t worry ma will love ya.”

Happy picked up his daughter out of the car seat and grabbed the diaper bag and another which he filled with clothes that he was going to leave here for when she visits. Carrying his daughter he made his way to the house which he grew up in, “H-Happy what…is that a?” His mother didn’t even know were to start.

“It’s a baby mom.” He said when he stopped in front of her, “It’s my baby ma. This is my daughter.” The woman covered her mouth as she felt tears well up in her eyes, “No.” Rosa, Happy’s mother, gasped and Happy nodded his head, “Guess I wasn’t to careful. Took a DNA test ma…she’s mine.”

Rosa felt some tears fall down her cheek as she looked at the little baby, her skin a lighter shade of Happy’s, short dark hair and brown eyes, “This is my grand daughter…I’m a grandmother.”

“Yeah, you’re a grandma.” Rosa wiped her eyes and looked up at her son, “How?”

“Well me and this chick…” Happy started and Rosa slapped his arm sharply and glared, “Oh don’t be a smart ass.” He chuckled and his daughter whined. “I’ll tell you inside, she’s hungry.”

“How could a woman just leave a baby out in the cold?” Rosa asked as she patted her granddaughter’s back, “Come on baby, burp for abuela (grandmother).” As if she knew she let out a deep burp making Rosa smile. “So you haven’t thought of a name?”

“Have a few but I don’t really like them.” He grunted as he leaned back into the couch. “What about Malinda?” Rosa offered and Happy shook his head. “Or Selena…don’t like that either…hmm maybe Kataline”

“I don’t know ma.” Happy said, “You think you could watch her I haven’t had any sleep.”

Rosa let out a laugh, “Sure baby.” Happy leaned down and kissed both woman on the head, “In thirty minutes there is a prescription that she has to take for her cold. I don’t think she’ll need it I haven’t heard her wheezing or coughing but just I case ya know.”

“Alright hun, you go get some sleep I’ll wake you up when dinner’s done. Love you baby.” Rosa called and cradled her new granddaughter, ¿Qué tal un amor canción? (How about a song sweetheart?)”

Amazing grace! How sweet the sound
That saved a wretch like me
I once was lost but now am found
Was blind but now I see

‘Twas grace that taught my heart to fear
And grace my fears relieved
How precious did that grace appear
The hour I first believed

Through many dangers, toils and snares
I have already come
'Tis grace hath brought me safe thus far
And grace will lead me home

How sweet the name of Jesus sounds
In a believer’s ear
It soothes his sorrows, heals his wounds
And drives away his fear

Must Jesus bear the cross alone
And all the world go free?
No, there’s a cross for ev'ryone
And there’s a cross for me”

Happy watched as his mother sang to his child and that’s when it hit him…when everything happened hit him. He was a dad, a single father that would be raising a kid all on his own…but he’d have the help of the club which felt nice to have that extra support. It scared him that he was scared to raise his daughter but I mean who could blame him, it wasn’t just him anymore that he would have to worry about. It was him and his little girl, meaning there was another mouth to feed, another body to clothe, another person to protect. A baby was a big deal and he doesn’t understand why he didn’t see the seriousness of this situation sooner.

What if he was a bad father? What if he was like his father? No. No he’d never be like his father, he would swear to never put his hands on his child the way his father did to him, he swore to never abandon her. When shit got tough he wasn’t going to leave her. He had to be stronger than he was, not for him but for her. He wouldn’t be alone in his house anymore, he had her and he wouldn’t be able to come home at four in the morning with a crow because he had her. Those thoughts were over whelming  but he had to man up for her, for his child…the thought made him a little mad that his dad didn’t do the same for him.  Happy wasn’t gonna miss a thing, not her first steps or first words, first date or dance, nah he wasn’t going to miss a thing.

It was around 6:30 when Rosa knocked on Happy’s door, he bolted upright opening the door quickly, “Is she alright?”

Rosa smiled softly and raised the baby in her arms, “We just came to wake you up for dinner. She woke up from her nap about ten minutes ago.” Rosa informed and Happy nodded as he sighed, his hand going to stroke her cheek as she sucked on her bo-bo. Her brown eyes staring at him with the intensity that he usually stares at others with, “Natasha.” He whispered so low that he barely heard himself say it.

“I think that’s a beautiful name.” Rosa smiled then looked down at her grand-baby, “Well Natasha let’s give daddy a minute huh?” He heard his mom hum as they walked down the hall and into the kitchen, leaving him alone to put on a shirt and grab his phone.

“Natasha. I like that name I wonder were he came up with that.” He heard his ma say to his daughter as she walked around bouncing his daughter. “Might have to give you some tummy time.”

“Yeah I brought a blanket for her.” Happy said as moved the coffee table and replace it with a blanket. “Come here baby girl.” Happy said as he picked up Natasha, “Where did you come up with that name?” Rosa asked as she watched her son bounce his daughter gently, her head cradled underneath his chin. Little hands poked at his chest making him kiss her head softly, “I don’t know. A chick I met today had that name and I thought it was nice. What you don’t like it?” He asked as he knelt down placing his daughter on her stomach.

“No I think it’s a pretty name for a pretty girl.” She smiled, “I’ll go get your food hon.” She said and Happy sat on the floor with his back against the couch.

“You’re liftin’ your head really good baby.” Happy smiled as he put his hand in front of her, her fingers grabbing his with a coo and squeal. He moved his hand back and she reached her hands out to grab his, lifting her head, “Good job.” He said and she let out a sharp squeal as she slapped her hands on the ground.

“You know I need to take pictures later with the both of you.” Rosa stated as she walked over with two plates in her hands, “Let’s turn you over baby.” Happy mumbled and rolled Natasha gently onto her stomach, then took his plate of food.

“Thanks ma.” He said around a mouthful of food.

The Face of Anne Boleyn

In 1532 a Venetian ambassador to the court of Henry VIII described Anne Boleyn as  “not one of the handsomest women in the world. She is of middling stature, with a swarthy complexion, long neck, wide mouth, bosom not much raised, and in fact has nothing but the King’s great appetite, and her eyes, which are black and beautiful.”

It is true that Anne was never praised as a great beauty, but it was not so much her outward appearance which made the King fall for her. Anne had a remarkable wit. She was well educated and had honed her skills of flirtation and charm during her time at the French court.In the generations following her death, Anne was romantically portrayed as a raven haired vixen with smoldering black eyes. While her eyes were dark and quite striking, Anne’s hair was more likely a lighter shade of brown (some theorize that she may even have been a redhead) and, although only one contemporary image of her survives, her face was probably not considered the most beautiful in England. 

Personally, I am of the opinion that Anne was not altogether what we would call “ugly” but rather that she did not fit with the beauty standards of Tudor England. She had olive skin, dark eyes, and was very slender with a small bosom. The Tudors preferred women to be of fair complexion and buxom of figure. Regardless of whether or not she met the criteria for the ideal Tudor lady, it was still ultimately Anne Boleyn’s mind and not her face that made her so extraordinary.

Without a doubt one of the worst parts of my job is when beautiful dark skin customers sheepishly ask me if we carry any products for lightening the skin. First I tell them that they have lovely skin and that we don’t sell skin bleaching products. Then they laugh it off and say “No not for bleaching, for cleansing.”

For cleansing yourself of what? Your race?! This happened again today. A beautiful young woman wearing a killer outfit and a hijab asked me for creams and cleansers that would make her skin lighter. I cringed immediately and my heart sank. She had a friend with her that was only a shade or two lighter but she also smiled eagerly and waited for my answer so she could translate it better. 

I told them we had a few products that made the skin “brighter” but not lighter. They begged me to show them the products but we were already closing and I said that I couldn’t. 

I wish I could have snapped a picture of them. The darker girl had such a chiseled jaw line and smoldering eyes. She reminded me of what Iman probably looked like as a young girl. She was wearing a 2 piece pant suit in navy with gemstones on the pointy shoulders and a bright colored hijab that framed her elegant face. Her skin was so smooth and totally flawless. I doubt she was even wearing concealer. 

They bought a few products and as they walked out I thanked them and reminded them of how much I liked their skin.

I die a little inside each time a gorgeous dark skinned person asks me about lightening creams. 


This guy is online talking that he works for the “DPC” department (I think he means DCP, Disney Consumer Products but he keeps saying the wrong thing) and posting traced artwork to look like he’s designing concepts for marketing. Sorry to get people scared of a whitewash scare coming straight from official places and that is not the case. I am fine with this continuing to be spread around cause hopefully this guy gets a C&D for his nonsense, but I am not in any way encouraging people to attack him. I’m trying very hard to ignore him on Twitter because he is blaming me for bringing people at him over this. He deleted some photoshopped posts after I told him what site he edited them on, I’m honestly suprised he hasn’t blocked me yet.

This guy designs artwork for Disney consumer products… And I don’t care if he was just throwing together a quick practice piece. The color of the clothes, hair, and eyes are accurate enough, so why would you grab such a light color for her skin and shade it and everything as if he just slapped it on last minute without a second thought? I’m not saying he intentionally/maliciously made her lighter but he in fact made her significantly inexcusably lighter. I find it odd that he explains to others that the skin tone can be changed or whatever to imply he’s fiddling with it but then defends the color to me by saying she’s not suppose to look like Tiana… UMM OK? This is annoying af. [x]

Fairy Sassmother (Zervis)


Name: Fairy Sassmother (name still on trial and suggestions are welcomed)
Pairing: Zervis (Zeref x Mavis), implied/mentions of Nalu
Rating: T
Summary: After losing her parents in an accident, Mavis is left homeless in one of the most densely populated boroughs of New York City: Manhattan. With no place to go she wanders around the streets and when everything seems lost, she encounters Zera, a self-proclaimed fairy hipster and fashion designer, who is nothing like the fairies her parents mentioned in their stories. When Zera offers her a place to live, what could this peculiar new friendship possibly mean for Mavis? ZERVIS (ZERA WILL BE A ZERVIS SHIPPER AND ADVOCATE)

A Fairy…Hipster?

When I was young my parents would always tell me stories before I went to bed. We didn’t really have money and we constantly lived by the day, but we were happy. My parents worked mostly all morning and although their bodies demanded sleep, they would never miss the opportunity to tuck me into bed as both laid on each side of me with another tale. I was in awe. Every detail and every new character brought me to squeal in excitement and anticipation. From stories of dragons and princesses to stories about gods and goddesses, it was always a whole new ride and a whole new mystery.

But out of everything they would tell me, they would always bring up stories of the fairies. The mythical beings who are said to bring fortune and joy to those they encounter. I always imagined them to be small creatures with small little wings and glitter fluttering behind them. They would say that there were all kinds out there. Those that bloomed from flowers and others who were born from the droplets of rain or any other forms of nature. My parents always got me worked up when they asked me if they had tails or not. I would ask them about it just as they questioned me and they would simply shrug with knowing smiles.

“Do fairies really have tails? Do they even exist…it is an eternal mystery…a never ending adventure”

They always answered me with more questions. A riddle I thought I’d never know the answer to. Something I never dreamed of knowing or even having the chance to see with my own eyes. However that all changed when I met Zera.

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Hey look, I drew something for once! It’s @erin-iceheart’s wizard Erin Iceheart. 

I hope the colors are okay. I sampled from the original drawing, but shading it made everything so much lighter

Frame. Calum Hood.

Description: Calum and the reader have been separated for a few months and on one night, Calum finds himself at her doorstep.

Somehow on that eery night he found himself wound outside her apartment. A bottle of whiskey in his hand and a broken frame in the other. He nudged the door repeatedly with his knuckles, being extra cautious not to drop the already shattered frame.

What he didn’t expect was for just seconds later, she opened her door. She looked like a complete Angel. Her hair was in a high, messy ponytail and her little baby hairs cupping her cheekbones and fluttering against her forehead. She was wearing her usual long t-shirt - which originally belonged to Calum. He wondered why she didn’t burn it, like she probably did with everything else he ever gave her or left behind. She was wearing some shorts and high ankle socks. She looked so perfect.

“Calum, what are you doing here? Are you insane? You are clearly intoxicated and in no state to drive. And what are you doing standing in the rain? You’ll catch your death.” She hissed, pulling Into the house and out of the rain. She grumbled to herself, something along the lines of him being a complete and utter idiot.

Calum stood in the hallway as he watched her every movement - from her arm shutting the door to her turning sharply on her heels and marching into the front room, still mumbling.

Calum slowly followed, after placing the whiskey bottle on the small table by the door. He trailed behind her like a lost puppy and slowly sat down beside her on the couch. He looked at her with big doe-eyes. He watched as she practically burned holes into the wall. Her knuckles going white due to how hard she was clenching onto the arm rest.

“What do you even want, Calum? You’re the one who wanted to have a break, you’re the one who left to travel round the world and fuck random girls. Not me. So why are you here? You clearly said it yourself that you envied the other boys because they would go out and party, have sex with groupies, whilst you had to be cautious. This was your doing, Calum Hood, not mine.” She growled, not meeting his eyes.

“I - I broke the picture and it made me realise how much I need you.”

“You realised, after what? 2 months, that you want me back because you broke a picture frame! Wow, Calum.” She snarled.

Calum flinched at her tone. He had never seen her so hurt or upset in his five years of knowing her. He whimpered slightly, before grabbing her cheeks in his cold hands. He turned her head to look at her. Her beautiful Y/E/C filled with tears and they were a lighter shade.

“I’m so sorry. I’m so stupid. I should’ve never made us have a break. I need you in my life more than anything else in this fucking world. You always push me to do my best and without you, I wouldn’t even be in a band and I wouldn’t have any fans. I wouldn’t have a chance to party every night. I’d be stuck in college or working, not touring the world with my three best friends. This is your doing and I’m so grateful. You make me achieve my full potential. Thank you. Please forgive me.”

Y/N was surprised that such emotional words could come out of an intoxicated mouth. She sighed before patting her lap. Calum laid down and laid his head on her lap, something that Calum had always done. He looked up at Y/N and smiled at her. She returned the gesture with a smaller smile. She slipped her fingers into his untamed curls and gently massaged his unruly hair and scalp.

“I love you so much. Honestly.” Calum whispered, his voice raspy from the alcohol and his tiredness, his eyes fluttered close at the sensation.

“I love you too, Calum. But how will I know that you won’t pull a similar stunt like this when you go off to tour again?”

“I promise. I won’t. You can destroy my bass and cut off my balls if I ever do it again.” Calum promised, a small smirk playing on his lips.

“You drive a hard bargain, Hood, but I guess it’s a deal.” She giggled.

“I’m also sorry I broke the frame. I was slightly upset and I when I slammed the door, it fell off the shelf. I’m such a klutz.” Calum huffed.

“It’s fine. We can buy a new frame, it’s the picture that really matters.” Y/N smiled, adoration clear of her face.

The pair glanced over to the picture that laid on the other side of the sofa. Both of their eyes falling on the picture of a small grainy black and white ultrasound of their little baby, yet to be born.

The Wizard

Okay, after watching World of Remnant this Sunday, I figured something out–and to be perfectly honest, I feel like an idiot for not noticing before.  There were four maidens, sure.  But what about the wizard?  No one ever mentions him, but he’s a key part of the story.  He’s the one that gifted the maidens with their power over nature because he thought it would be better off with them instead of him.  

Now, when Ozpin was telling Pyrrha about that story, he asked her about the story using these exact words:  “Would you believe me if I told you it was true?”  Meaning not just that the four maidens exist, but that the wizard also exists.  Now, this theory would only work if the wizard was still alive. which should be true.  After all, he had magic.  He probably kept some of his magic with him to keep himself alive.  We also know that he was a reclusive sort of fellow, and became fast friends with the four maidens.  He probably wants to protect them forever, and he kept himself alive for that very purpose.  Hmmm, who do we know that’s reclusive, stoic, obsessed with protecting the maidens, and looks like he’s a lot older and more powerful than he lets on?

Ozpin.  And here are my reasons why:

1. It’s in his name.  Ozpin.  Like the Wizard of Oz?  His green attire even allures to this other character.  The Wizard of Oz was supposed to be this great and powerful sorcerer, but in reality, he’s nothing more than a humbug, a deceiver.  Although in the RWBY universe, I feel like Ozpin’s identity is reversed.  While the Wiz was just an old man pretending to be a powerful magician, I feel like Ozpin is a powerful magician pretending to be an old man.  He’s armed with nothing but a cane (kind of like Roman, who is also a figure of authority) and appears to be harmless, but his very presence when he’s under pressure is anything but.

2. He’s the head of the Maiden Protection Thingy.  He’s the one that calls the shots when it comes to the Maidens’ safety.  He chose Pyrrha to replace Amber, and he has control over paranoid Ironwood.  This could be because he feels like the Maidens are his responsibility, since they are using his powers.

3. He believes in magic. No-brainer!

4. He let Ruby into Beacon two years early.  This mixes with my other theory about how Summer might have been the Summer Maiden and passed on her powers to Ruby before she died.  Ozpin sees that she has silver eyes and remembers that Summer did as well.  He wants to keep an eye on her and protect her.  He couldn’t save Summer, so now he keeps Ruby under a watchful eye.

5. He looks like the wizard from the story.  Okay, this is a big stretch, I know, but here’s a picture of the wizard.

The wizard has grey hair and amber eyes, and wears shades of green.  Ozpin wears green and has grey hair with amber eyes (although they are a little lighter).  Also, the wizard looks stern here, which is an expression that Ozpin wears a lot. 

6.  “I’ve made more mistakes than any man, woman, and child on this planet.” and “You’ve been burdened with a daunting responsibility Ruby, I advise you take some time to think about how you will uphold it.”   I mean, come on.  That’s obvious.  He entrusted his powers to the Maidens, who were then hunted and killed numerous times for their powers, creating wars and deaths of innocent people.  Also, he trusts Ruby with that information.  I think he’s trying to tell her his secret, and help her realize her own.

Well, that’s all I got.  What do you guys think?

Complicated Simplicity (Part 7)

Summary: After walking in on his girlfriend cheating on him, Dean leaves what he thought was a happy life and goes back to his hometown. There, he reunites with his first love and finds that maybe the life he thought he wanted wasn’t what was right for him.

Word Count: 2,257

Warnings: None.

Part 1 Part 2 Part 3 Part 4 Part 5 Part 6

A/N: Yay for me starting to complete a series! We’re just missing a few more parts and it’ll be over :) Hope you enjoy this part. Let me know. 

“Dean. Dean, wake up, damn it!”


“Wake up!”

“What the fuck? What? Sammy?”

“Jesus, you haven’t called me that in years.”

“Yeah, well you’re being an annoying pain in the ass little brother right now. The nickname fits.”

“You’re awake?”

“No. I’m talking in my sleep. What the fuck time is it anyways?”

“Almost five a.m.”

“The fuck? It couldn’t have waited until tomorrow?”

“Dean, I’m nervous.”

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Pearlmethyst fanfic I wrote in Lauren Zuke’s booniverse au bc I’m admittedly still attached to it./

Excerpt: “Oh.” Amethyst sounds subdued, as though treading on thin ice. It isn’t subtle, the way she snuggles closer. “Do you regret it? Following Rose?”

Pearl sighs and glances down at her. Dark blue eyes lower, finding better interest in staring at her lap.

Tentatively, she brings her lips to the corner of Amethyst’s mouth, a gesture that startles even herself, and the werewolf makes a short, gravelly noise low in her throat that Pearl notes as surprise. If she were even alive enough to blush, she definitely would be.

“How could I?” She responds instead, running her fingers fondly across the other woman’s jawline. “I got to meet Garnetstien … and you.”

Read “Reminder” here or under the cut

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a FitzSimmons drabble inspired by kelslk-art’s adorable art - I couldn’t get it out of my head for days, so this was born. thank you for your lovely work!
Rated T. Established relationship, future AU.

Even with Fitz taking up half of the Science Division’s operational duties (in practice, if not in name), Jemma had still been so busy during the past week that she couldn’t remember the last time she had eaten a sit-down meal. Her own passion projects had fallen to the wayside with all of the SHIELD-dictated research that she was spearheading, and she wasn’t sure what she missed more: Sleep, or science undiluted by bureaucracy.

As she finished up notes on a report requested by Director Coulson, Jemma was holed up in a remote corner of the lab, hoping to avoid unnecessary interruptions. The other scientists (other than Fitz, naturally) had taken to seeking her approval for all manner of inane trivialities, and it was simply slowing her down – she’d have to draft a memo about that soon. Until then, she was hiding with her tablet away from prying eyes, leaning back against an unused steel table and trying to look unavailable.

“There you are,” came a familiar Scottish voice, tone soft under the bustle of the rest of the base. “Been looking for you for ten minutes.”

Jemma exhaled into a smile, unable to help the way she instinctively leaned into the hand Fitz smoothed along her arm, and tried to stay focused on the tablet screen. Then he pressed a tender kiss to her temple and she let her eyes slip shut, giving herself five whole seconds to enjoy his presence.

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